


Acquiesce

by Zyxst



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, BDSM, Blood and Violence, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, Multi, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Spanking, Steve Rogers Feels, Swearing, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21549400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyxst/pseuds/Zyxst
Summary: You've been brought to an unknown location for unknown reasons. You obey to stay alive.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 40
Kudos: 175





	1. One

Anger ran through me.

Couldn't she understand she brought this on herself?

She broke the rules.

She got punished.

But somehow, it's *their* fault.

We weren't supposed to talk to each other. That's rule 2. I couldn't help myself. I was too pissed.

"Would you shut up!" I hollered through the food slot. "Quit shifting the blame."

"How is me being unable to walk my fault?" she demanded.

"You were told not to try to escape or you'd be punished. Guess what? You ran and got punished."

"Listen, you little bitch." Her voice hissed like an evil Disney queen. "You keep acting the good  
girl. That can only keep you "safe" for so long. The more obedient you are just makes them work  
harder to break you."

"Blah, blah, blah. I'm not the one hobbling around like I've been hamstrung." I moved away from the  
door and sat against the opposite wall. I wrapped my arms around my knees.

I hadn't been here long, a couple weeks I think. Time was a difficult thing to hold on to when I  
couldn't see a clock or calendar or the outside. I counted days by my sleep cycle and did what I  
needed to to keep myself from napping due to boredom. 

I was in a basement or some underground bunker. When one of them came to get me, we rode up an  
elevator. There were stairs, but I stumbled going up them and I don't know if they got tired of me  
hurting myself or what. The other woman though, she *always* got taken up and down the stairs.  
They didn't give a shit if she got hurt.

They.

Them.

My captors.

One a lauded hero.

One a redeemed soldier.

Both men out of time.

"Hey doll." My eyes quickly looked at the now open door. I stood and hurried across the room. The  
metal of his fingers cool against mine as I slid my hand into his. "Good girl. The Captain's back  
and eager for some stress relief."


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can best be summed up as: Steve got weird, yo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is mild blood play. It's not huge or part of a kink. Like summary says - Steve got weird, yo.

Steve looked up when I entered the room. He placed the cloth he held off to the side of the bed,   
then motioned for me to stand in front of him. Anyone seeing him would never think he'd just beaten,   
tortured, and likely raped one of his female hostages. 

He looked as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

An icon of wholesome purity and goodness.

If the world only knew.

He patted his thighs. Resigned, I lay myself across his lap and pulled up my shirt to expose my ass.  
Warm fingers caressed my body. "Open," he demaned. My legs parted. He pushed down on my lower back to  
force my butt higher. He landed three strikes against my pussy lips. I gritted my teeth at the  
throbbing. Two fingers thrust inside me. "So wet for me."

"Only for my Captain," I whimpered while he curled and twisted his fingers. I listened as he slurped  
my pussy juice from his hand.

He tapped my back. I slid off his lap and knelt before him. He picked up the package and spoke. "I  
bought a toy for us. Buck's been teaching me how to use it properly. I can only learn so much from  
being told what to do. I'm more of a "hands on" type of guy." He held the toy delicately. "Do you  
know what it is?"

"Specifically, no Captain."

"An M3 fighting knife, circa World War II." Drawing the knife from the sheathe, his face lit up like  
Ralphie getting a Red Ryder air rifle. "First issued in 1943 for the Army." He snorted. "Never got  
mine because they decided to parade me around like a show horse or lock me up like a lab rat." His  
eyes glazed over.

Well, shit.

I watched as he flipped and tossed the knife, trading off which hand he used. He traced the blade  
tip around my lips. 

Slowly.

Gently.

Lovingly.

"You'd look real pretty with red lips," he said. The tip pressed into my bottom lip. "Do you ever  
wear red lipstick?"

"No, Captain."

"Would you like to?" The tip nudged my lips apart, holding my bottom lip down as it gradually dipped  
inside my mouth. "Would you paint your mouth red for me?"

I did the stupidest fucking thing.

I touched the bare metal with my tongue.

His nostrils flared widely as he sucked in air. His voice a breathy whisper. "Steve's gonna give  
ya what ya want, baby doll. Steve's gonna give ya everything." 

I didn't even register his movements until I saw the blood seeping from the cut he'd grazed along  
the length of his full bottom lip. Using the handle, he tilted my chin up and placed a chaste, yet  
lingering kiss on my mouth. 

He jammed the knife into the top edge of the footboard while he untucked the towel wrapped around   
his hips. His erection bobbed proudly. "Eyes on me," he barked gesturing to his gorgeous blue eyes  
with two fingers.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the M3 fighting knife I picture Steve using. Shout out to my husband for correcting me about the blade's cutting surface. If I had to describe Steve's crazy, I say he's a combo of Ted Bundy and Richard Ramirez.
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/184642109@N02/49136990988/in/dateposted-public/)

Captain Rogers was like Santa Claus.

He knew when you were lying.

He knew when you were faking it.

He knew.

He lay back on his elbows, eyes shut. I admit I do love watching a guy's face while I'm sucking him  
off. Just before he cums, his eyes will pop open and he'll stare down at me as I swallow. 

Steve was no different.

His cock easily slid over my tongue and down my throat. I rarely gagged these days. I only had a   
problem when I couldn't breathe. Why the fuck were humans built to breathe and swallow through the  
same hole?

Steve gripped my hair and stopped me. "Not yet. On the bed."

"Yes, Captain." I scrambled up. Half turned, I asked, "Front or back, sir?"

"Back. Hands behind your head." He stood and jerked the knife out of the wood. I settled back and  
waited. I had a vague idea about knife play, what I thought Steve would be doing, but he could be  
a wild card. "Good girl." He crawled up and knelt around my legs. Twirling the knife around, he   
slowly brushed my skin with the handle, taking time to circle my breasts and nipples. 

The look on his face spoke volumes.

Crazy volumes.

Literally. 

Fucking. 

Crazy.

I couldn't help myself. "Oh God." My voice barely audible as he grazed my vulva.

His head tipped to one side and he replied in a tone of awe. "Not God. Just Steve." He bent over me  
with the knife still against my crotch. He spoke against my mouth, "Your Steve." A light kiss, then  
he moved off and parted my legs. "I'd love to see these lips painted red. Bucky would kill me for  
it though." The handle caressed the seam, nudging it open. I accepted the foreign intrusion and did   
my damnedest to stay still and passive. "Do you love me?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Captain," I answered dutifully. 

It slid deeper inside.

"'Steve'," he groaned.

It slid deeper inside.

"Yes, Steve."

The hilt stopped the advance.

"Say it." His right hand seized the blade. "Say you love me."

"I love you ...Steve?" My voice came out small and child-like.

"Again." He began fucking me with the knife.

"I love you, Steve." My voice came out slightly louder.

"Again." 

"I love you, Steve." My hands fisted in pillow under my head. Tears leaked from my eyes. The pain  
was this side of bearable. The thrusts grew harder and faster, the handle's pommel pounding against  
my cervix.

"Scream it!" he demanded.

"I LOVE YOU, STEVE!"

He plunged the weapon a final time before frantically jerking his cock with his thoroughly bloody  
hand. He straightened, aiming his cum at my chest as he orgasmed. "Yes yes oh fuck yes fuck yes!"  
It hit me in hot spurts. Obediently keeping my eyes open, I cried silently. "No no no," he babbled.  
"Don't cry, sweetheart. Don't cry." He cupped my cheek as he spoke and wiped away my tears. "Shh,  
it's okay. Steve'll take care of ya. Real good care. Shh."

I felt the dildo pulled from my pussy. I sucked back a whimper of pain. He held the object up and  
carefully inspected it. It was coated in a mixture of my cum tinged pink with my blood. The blade  
dripped with Steve's blood. 

He tapped the handle against my mouth. I opened and let him ease it inside until the hilt brushed  
my face. He cradled my head tenderly, resting his thumbs along the guard. He parted his lips,  
bent down, and took the bloodied blade into his mouth. The passionate moans from him as he suckled  
the blade like a starved infant caused ripple of fear through my brain.

This is not the sort of knife play I expected.

Steve slowly pulled away. Blood stained his mouth and drizzled down his chin when he spoke. "My   
perfect babydoll. Mine forever."


	4. Four: Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve do some clean up.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Steve! This isn't how this was supposed to go!" Bucky threw the duffle bag  
at Steve. 

"Whaddya want me to do?"

"Stick to the fucking PLAN." Bucky hoisted his own duffle and gave his friend a shove toward the  
stairs. "Now we gotta clean shit up. I hate this shit. So much easier back in the day."

"Did this a lot, did you?" Steve demanded.

"When I wasn't keeping your scrawny ass outta trouble." Again, he shoved him. "I'm out my girl  
because of your fucking shield. Fuck Howard Stark."

"Lawl."

Bucky stopped. "Did you- nevermind."

The boys arrived downstairs in the holding area. Steve paused at the second room, caressing the door  
with his fingertips. An easy smile creased his mouth. "Mine," he breathed. He felt Bucky shove him  
in the back again. "I'm movin'. Christ!"

"Bitch is starting to stink. Gotta get her outta here quick." They stopped at the fifth room. Bucky  
unlocked and pushed open the door. 

The woman lay on the floor, unmoving with her legs at awkward angles. Blood and bowel release puddled  
under her prone body. Steve gagged a bit as he stepped in and dropped his bag. "Fuck."

Bucky just shook his head. He dropped his bag and unzipped it. Out came a roll of tarpaulin that he  
spread out next to the body. He took out some nylon cord and threw it at his friend. "Tie her up in  
half. She's gotta fit in the bag." Steve nodded. Once bound, they lifted the body onto the tarp  
and rolled it up snugly. They wrangled it into Steve's duffle. Bucky started out the door, then  
looked back when he wasn't being followed. "C'mon, dipshit. We ain't got all night."

"Why do I gotta carry her?" Steve whined as he hoisted the heavy load.

"Because you killed her, that's why. Now quit being a pussy and let's go."

"Alright." The men went back upstairs toward the garage. "Hey, can we stop at McDonalds on the way  
back? I'm hungry for a Big Mac."

Bucky snorted. "Why not? Chicken nuggets for me." He popped open the back of the Jeep Wrangler for  
Steve, then hopped behind the wheel. Steve slid in on the passenger side. Bucky briefly thought  
about leaving the other woman alone, but shook off any doubts. That one, she knew her life depended  
on keeping herself in line. No fucking way she'd run. The security system would notify them if she  
tried. "So when ya gonna get a bun in the oven?"

Steve smiled and chuckled. "Any time. Not like she's protected and" he pressed his hands together  
in mock prayer, "as a good Irish Catholic boy, I would never use a condom." Both men laughed at that.

The Jeep came up to the smallish out building at the back of the property. It was a storage shed  
hidden by woods on two sides, a sturdy rock wall on the other sides, and a gravel road leading to  
a chained gate. Steve hopped out, unlocked the gate, and held it open for Bucky to drive through. He  
got back in after locking up. "Whaddya think? Cremate or wood chipper?"

"I'm kinda feeling the wood chipper, tee bee aitch."

Bucky glared at Steve. "Stop with the internet shorthand. You sound like a goddamned idiot."

"Punk."

"Jerk."

"Just for that, you can carry 'your girl' inside." Steve heaved the weighted bag at his friend.  
Bucky caught it easily and shook his head as he watched the other man head in the building. Steve  
readied the wood chipper, a familiar shape catching his eye. He moved nearer and stared. "Hey Buck,  
why is there a cr-"

His words were literally cut off as Bucky slammed a trusty combat knife into Steve's neck. It was  
a move that disabled the super soldier and would prevent the healing factor from kicking in until  
the blade was removed. 

Bucky tossed the bag aside, keeping a firm grip on the knife. He moved to face Steve. "This isn't  
about you getting the perfect girl. Hell, I mighta been able to convince ya to share her, but,  
Steve-o, you've flipped your wig." Bucky chuckled and touched his chest with his free hand. "I mean,  
I'm bonkers; a total nutcase. I admit that." He put his face as close to Steve's, watching the man's  
eyes widen and gloss over with unshed tears. "But when a crazy like me is tellin' ya you're fucked  
in the head ...shit. So, you're gonna have a nice nap for a while."

He maneuvered Steve's body and leaned him against the cryo chamber. Bucky swung the door open. He  
readied himself, licking his lips. He had to give enough time for the spine to heal, but not enough  
for Steve to break free. He pulled the knife out, settling the other man inside, then sealed the  
door. 

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Steve's fist punching the window jerked him to action. Bucky tapped the console. White mist rose  
around Steve and, gradually, his eyes shut as he was forced into a cold sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the building is on the property (think of it as a huge farm), but the boys can still get McDonalds even though it's miles out of the way. Don't judge me.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up to find Steve's been replaced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler in end notes. Skip if you want to keep the mystery of what Bucky does.

I woke, but this didn't feel right.

I opened my eyes. I was in a room, but not mine.

Yesterday came crashing back. This was Steve's room.

I looked around cautiously, listening. I didn't hear anyone moving around or talking. I pushed the  
duvet away and frowned at the disgusting mess. Dried blood and cum all over me. I rolled to the edge  
of the bed and sat up. My head swam. I gave myself time before standing up and walking to the   
bathroom.

Keeping a hand on the wall, I peeked inside. No Steve. I did see a wash cloth and towel beside the  
basin. The sink was dotted with water droplets. I fingered a towel hanging up and felt dampness. I  
guess Steve had cleaned up, but why leave me alone?

I didn't believe for one second he 'loved' me. Well, maybe in that psychotic way. He was controlling  
and domineering. Unless this was some kind of test of my love or loyalty, he would never allow me  
to be by myself for any reason. 

I ignored my reflection and decided to shower while I had the chance. Only a bottle of shampoo and  
sliver of soap sat in their nooks. I turned on the water, adjusting the temp to a comfy warmth before  
stepping under the spray. Working quickly, I washed my hair and body. I whimpered as I cleaned my  
pussy. The memory of Steve fucking me with the knife handle too real; I felt twin bruises on either  
side of my outer lips from the guard digging into my flesh. The air around me shifted as the door  
slide open. I slipped as I turned to face Steve, only for an alien sensation to wrap around me.

Chilled metal.

Heated flesh.

Sergeant Barnes.

My hands flew up and clung to his shirt. We stood there for what felt like an eternity. "Did you  
need me, Sergeant?" I asked.

He placed me outside before turning off the shower. "Yeah, doll, I do." He handed me a towel off  
the rack. "Dry off."

"What about Steve?" Probably a dumb question.

"Dry off." He eyed my face for a few seconds, then walked out of the room. Left to my own devices,  
I did what he said. I used the towel on the counter to rub dry my hair, but it still dripped water  
against my shoulders and back. I hung the towels up and walked out. "Did Steve use this on you?" He  
held up the knife, still dirtied.

"Yes sir," I whispered and clasped my hands together to stop the shaking.

He face palmed and sighed loudly. "Too impulsive. Too emotional. Fuckin' dumbass." He took off his  
shirt and handed it to me. "Put this on. Sit down." I did as he bid. He poked around until he found  
what he wanted, then proceeded to clean the knife. Satisfied with his work, he wrapped the knife   
in cloth and set it aside. "You got ideas why you're here?"

I did.

Plenty of 'em.

Saying them out loud?

That's a negative, Ghost Rider.

"For ...sex ..." I replied slowly. I bit my lips to keep quiet. He withdrew a large combat knife  
from his boot and began cleaning it. He wiped it down carefully with a soft cloth, then spent the  
next few minutes sharpening it.

Shk

Shk

Shk

Shk

He stood over me, motioning me to stand with the knife. I gulped. He stepped up. The metal felt cool  
as his fingers slid to the nape of my neck, swirling circles gently along my skin. "Focus on me," he  
commanded. My eyes found his. He brought the sharpened blade up in salute and began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I'm a bitch. So cruel to leave you hanging.
> 
> Reality: I had no words to adequately describe what Bucky was doing and there's no video that I can find showing what I want.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clock is now ticking.

Despite the oddity of the whole situation - kidnapped, raped, confined by two 'heroes' - I could  
find myself falling under their spell.

Steve Rogers, the one I spent more time with therefore I learned more, had been turned down by women  
and away by men for twenty years of his life. What he wanted was control; have others do what HE said.  
Follow his lead. Obey him. All would be good. Sweetheart swirled with psycho in the body of a   
golden god.

James Barnes, a man once whole in all ways only to be twisted apart and rebuilt so often there was  
nothing left of his old self. Much in common with the prosthetic he despised, he became a man of   
great strength and durability tempered by empathy. 

The morning I learned Steve 'left' and James showed me *exactly* how knife play should be done, I  
was a goner.

James never marked me.

No cuts.

No bruises.

No burns.

No bites.

Our relationship had this unspoken layer of trust. I stayed because I wanted to stay. I felt safe,  
cared for, protected, even loved. When James had to leave, I was there when he returned. I played  
up the whole housewife role. 

Did I ever wonder about the other woman? The one who'd been here before me? Sure, sometimes. I didn't  
dwell though. I mean, one or both of them killed her, right? Neither were the type to let someone  
go free with the promise of not telling. 

Steve...

I did put thought in his disappearance.

Oh yeah, he could be on a very long mission, something covert that required plenty of build-up.

Except...

He never called. 

Or texted. 

Or sent a letter. 

Behavior that seemed very out of character for him. It's not something I wanted to ask James about.  
How would that go? 'Oh hey, whatever happened to Steve, your psychopathic best friend? Oh, you   
sliced him up and buried the body parts in sacred Mayan temples? That's cool.' The other thing is  
that I didn't want James to think I carried a torch for Steve. A tealight maybe, but not a torch.

I'd been 'confined' for about 3 months. James was very particular about time keeping. Clocks and  
calendars were sprinkled throughout the house. Of course, I naively thought this was due to his   
past trauma.

Until he insisted on knowing the specifics of my menstrual cycle.

I remember just looking at him funny. Like, what guy wants to know about a woman's period? He patted  
my belly, saying, "Gotta know the best chance for a baby." Leaning into my face, he continued,   
"Provided you're not already pregnant."

Surprised Pikachu face.

"Doll?" 

I gulped. "I haven't ...not since ...um ..." I touched my forehead in shock.

He guided me to a chair, then brought me a glass of water. "Drink." I drank a few sips, still  
stunned at the possibilty of being pregnant. 

"I need a doctor!" I hurriedly stood up and rushed toward the door. He caught me, jerking me to stop.

"Why!" he demanded and gave me a hard shake. "You're not getting an abortion. I'll put you in  
fucking lockdown." I fought back. It was dumb, but I prayed he'd be careful because of the maybe  
baby. 

Think.

Cry. Simple to do. I was already upset. The tears flowed. His grip lessened and he wiped at the  
wetness on my cheeks.

Think.

"It's too much," I babbled and clung to his shirt. "I ...I need some air. I need ...I ..." I waved  
my hands in a panic. I let myself go limp and I struggled to breathe.

James scooped me up, then carried me outside. He murmured soothing words as he cradled me like a  
baby. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. I'll make everything all right. It's okay."

Think.

"I'm gonna ...oh God." I pushed at him. He set me down and I leaned over the porch railing to puke.  
My breakfast came up. I tried not to look. Between hurls, I begged for cold water and a wet face  
cloth.

"Back in a minute, doll," he said as he touched my back before speeding off.

I started counting.

I took in my surroundings.

The house. A gravel road. Fencing in the front. A thick forest behind. 

I ran off the porch and turned in circles. There was no where to run, to hide. Tears of fear flooded  
my eyes. I dropped to my knees and cried, rocking back and forth with my head in my hands.

James appeared before me.

Time's up.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You may have an ally.

A total wreck.

He carried me to the bathroom. He kept up an onslaught of soothing words as he placed me on the  
toilet and started running a hot bath. "There's gonna be questions, doll. A lot of 'em." He combed  
back my hair. "But we'll get through it, you 'n me."

I watched his face. He sounded reassuring, but was it for me or him? I'd assumed people had been  
looking for me - my family, friends, even my boss ("who's gonna cover her shifts?!"). Four months  
was a long time to be gone for any reason and Bucky Barnes didn't have the same reputation as Steve  
Rogers. "I'm sorry for ...being all emotional," I sobbed-laughed and patted his hand. "A certain  
amount of panic is expected in this situation, right?"

He nodded. "Do ya need help?"

"I think I can manage."

"I'm gonna be talkin' ta people ta get ya what ya need. Ya yell if ya need me."

I playfully shoved him. "Your Brooklyn's showing, James." We shared a kiss, then he left. I could  
hear him in the bedroom. I sank down into the water and lay back, thoroughly wetting my hair. I  
swished my head around so my hair was floating. A small smile crept up. Doing this always brought me  
into my childhood mermaid fantasy. My ears were under, too, muting the world around me. It helped me  
think.

Would he let people come here, or would he take me to them?

Will he tell Steve?

What's our story about being together?

Part of me wanted to get away from here, but another part wanted to stay. If I could leave and not  
have to talk about where I've been for four months, that's be great. Wouldn't happen, though, because  
I have a nosy family. Steve would be able to charm them, coast on his America's Sweetheart image.  
James, not so much.

Why the fuck do I keep coming back to what Steve would do?

Had I been sucked in by his charisma, despite the freak-in-the-sheets he proved to be?

Oh God.

I bolted upright, shocked.

Was I so concerned with Steve because ...he's the father?

"Fuck my life," I groaned, flopping my hands against my face. How could I get a paternity test done  
with James around? I'm positive he's going to be with me for every doctor appointment.

Wait.

What if I'm not pregnant?

This is all conjecture. No tests confirming anything. Maybe I'm worrying over nothing. I ran my  
hands over my belly, feeling for a bump. I didn't bother looking up when the door opened. "Hey, doll,"  
James said as he entered. He crouched beside the tub and turned me to face him. "The doc says those  
at-home pregnancy tests are as accurate as anything. I'm gettin' some sent over. Anything else ya  
need?"

Tell me where Steve is. 

"Make me think about something else?" I asked. He smiled. I wrung out my hair and moved to stand,  
even though I'd only been in the tub a short time. "I'm going a little nuts; panicking about being  
a mom without knowing that I'm actually pregnant."

"What's gotcha upset, doll?" James held out a large towel and wrapped it around me.

"Do we go public with our ...relationship?" Sighing, I hugged him. "Will we stay here, or move closer  
to a hospital? Shit, how am I going to tell my parents?"

He lifted my chin in order to look into my eyes. "Don't worry your pretty head about all that. I got  
it covered." He pressed his lips to mine, then helped me dry off. "I'mma get that test. You get  
ready for bed." I nodded and he left.

I plugged in the hair dryer and set to work. I didn't feel much calmer after expressing my concerns.  
"What the hell is my life?" I asked myself. James was more generous with my freedom around the house.  
He trusted me to be by myself when he left. He allowed me to dress fully instead of in a tee and  
panties. He never locked me downstairs again, not since Steve left. I put the dryer away when I  
finished, brushing through my hair. "If someone could tell me where Steve Rogers is, that'd be  
great," I grumbled in a sorry impersonation of Bill Lumbergh from Office Space.

"Steve Rogers is currently in cryostasis."

I gasped.

"Who said that?" I whispered, praying James didn't hear.

"I said that."

"Who're you?"

"I'm FRIDAY, an artificial intelligence created by Tony Stark." 

Maybe I had more choices than I thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took too long to write. I'm having hang ups about using Bucky's arm in a sexual way and that really made me not want to write this. I don't want to remove those tags either. I just feel like I won't write that kink "properly". I don't feel great about this chapter, but it's a hump that needs to be gotten over. I apologize for it.
> 
> I resorted to the deus ex machina trope. *hangs head in shame*


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head.

I opened the bathroom door and found James on the other side. "I knew that fucking AI was a mistake."  
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Let's get you dressed and we'll talk."

He led me to the bedroom. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, doll, you're not in trouble." I sat down on the bed while he spoke. He tapped the pregnancy  
test kit against his thigh before placing beside me. "Steve and me, we just wanted what we shoulda  
had; wives, kids, jobs. We didn't want to be government experiments, not show ponies or assassins.   
We wanted normal lives." He flopped on the bed.

I looked behind me. I picked up the box and scooted halfway around. "So ...you decided to kidnap  
women?"

"Phhh. Not me. Steve."

We exchanged looks.

"I know," he said with a laugh. "Captain America's bright idea to get a gal is to kidnap her."

"Why did you go along with it?"

"Because Steve Rogers is a little fuckwad who still doesn't understand technology," James barked.  
"Okay, I went along to keep the shit outta trouble, but your fucking family ...shit."

"What?" I gasped and shot to my feet.

He stood up, too, grabbing my arms. "Yeah. They figured out you were kidnapped a few hours after it  
happened." He shook his head. "Steve went to talk to them when he caught wind of a police report.  
Your mom sniffed out his bullshit story from the start. Smart dame, like her daughter." He smiled,  
rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

My parents have been searching for me. 

I choked back a sob.

"There's more. I spoke to your mom, let her know you were alive and well."

Pulling away, I shot him an accusatory look. "What? And they bought that?!" I stormed to the dresser  
and yanked open drawers. I put on underwear and a bra before facing James again. "So what bullshit  
story did you tell Mom?"

He folded his arms across his chest and had the audacity to look ashamed. "I told her I'd found you  
and kept you in a safe house until me and Steve could catch the guy that took you." He watched me  
finish dressing in a t-shirt and sweatpants. "You being here blew Steve off the rails. The other  
gal, she ...she was Steve's first choice until he saw you. You became an obsession." He walked over  
to the closet, found one of his hoodies, and handed it to you. "Put this on. I need to show you  
something before-" he paused, repeatedly fingering his hair.

"Before what?" I jerked on the overly large hoodie and got in his face. "Before what, *Bucky*?"

He moved so fast I was flat against the wall before my next breath. "Don't. Call. Me. Bucky." His  
left hand cradled my jaw. "I'm James; just James." We stared at each other. His eyes raked over my  
face, memorizing my features as though he'd never see me again. He kissed my forehead, then held  
me tightly. "I'm taking you home," he whispered.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/184642109@N02/49362968231/in/dateposted-public/)


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader learns her fate and Steve's.

I hugged him back. "Let's get this test outta the way first," I said. I picked up the box and went  
to the bathroom. I read the instructions. "This is gonna be the longest 3 minutes of my life."

James stood in the doorway, hands tucked in pockets. "Thought these were instant."

"Me, too." I dropped my pants, sat on the toilet, and stuck the stick in my pee stream. I put the  
stick on the counter to wait. I finished quickly. "Do we stand here and stare at it?"

"What are we looking for?"

"Pink lines." I looked at him. "2 lines is pregnant. 1 line is not pregnant." I walked the short   
distance and pulled his hands into mine. The palms were sweaty. "Sorry for being weird. I can't even  
explain to myself how I feel."

"Ya need shoes," James kept his gaze on my feet as he spoke. "I wanna show ya where Steve is so ya   
know he's not gonna comin' after ya. I'll take ya home after."

My head dropped to his chest. "Ugh, what do I tell my parents? Maybe I should pretend it's too   
traumatic and I can't talk about it." I tipped my head back, keeping my chin pressed against his  
sternum. "Any ideas?"

"Distraction using deep defense." I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Give them something else to   
focus on rather than how we met. We use it to buy time to agree on what to say." Even at this angle,  
James' eyes picked out the 2 pink lines appearing in the test box. "Tell them you're pregnant and  
we're getting married soon."

My eyes widened. I whipped around and grabbed the test.

Yep. 2 lines, bold as anything. No confusion there.

I didn't realize I was falling over until James swept me off my feet. "Wha-"

"You were falling down."

"Oh. Well. Of course."

He snickered, carrying me back to bed. He sat me down and brought over my shoes. I put them on, tied  
the laces, and stood. "I want you to see a doctor at the compound," he said. "A super soldier's  
never had a kid and I want to make sure you're both safe."

"Oh thank fucking God," I sighed in relief. "I did *not* relish talking to my gyno about this. Can  
you imagine?" I held out my hand.

He smiled.

A small one, but still.

Coolness brushed my skin.

I squeezed his left hand, returning his smile. 

He led me down to the garage to his Jeep and helped me into the passenger's side. He got in behind  
the wheel. As he started up the engine, he released a long exhale. "I'm wingin' it, doll," he said  
as he began driving. "When I realized Steve was goin' nutso, I planned to get him into cryo, but  
from there ...no idea. I didn't want to kill him. I can't just keep him where he's at now. He can be  
found and if he gets free, we're all dead."

"He'd kill you? His best friend?"

"Hell yeah," James scoffed. "I stabbed him in the fuckin' back!"

"Oh." What else could I say? I scrunched up my nose. "Wait, literally?"

"Uh-huh. Did you think he went in on his own?" He laughed. I smacked him in the arm, then did it  
a few more times just because.

Rubbing the spot I'd been hitting, I said, "I think I should stay at the compound during this. Like  
you said, first super soldier baby. I can get away with using WhatsApp to see Mom and Dad. They'll  
understand about me not being able to see them in person." My hand fell to his leg as I gazed out  
the windows. "Are we still on the farm ...er acreage?"

"We're headed to an out building at the edge of the property." He drove down a road until a gate  
appeared. He parked in front of it and undid his belt. Pointing at me, he ordered, "Stay here until  
I come around."

"I'm pregnant, not helpless!" I yelled back, crossing my arms and pouting. He kept an eye on me as  
he walked to open my door. I undid my seat belt and let him help me out of the Jeep. He unlocked  
the gate, held open for me, and closed it after I was on the other side. I shivered a little. "Feels  
like I'm going to see a dead person."

"Well, he's not dead, just ...sleeping," James informed me. We went inside the building and I glanced  
around the place. Nothing really unusual in here, except for the large machine off in a corner. I  
stepped over to it, but James gently pushed me behind him. "In case," he said and I nodded. He  
checked the machine carefully, then held out his flesh hand to me.

I could easily see inside. Steve did look asleep. I gingerly touched the window, standing on tiptoe  
to see deeper inside. "So he'll stay like this forever?"

"Unless someone wakes him up, or the power's cut."

"Is there any thing we can do to stop him?" I nudged James' left arm and cuddled under it when he  
draped it around me. I hugged him tightly. "Drop him in the ocean or a live volcano? Do a Cask of  
Amontillado?"

He hugged me back, saying nothing.


	10. Ten: Denouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James takes care of the last problem.

Five Months Later

James silently entered the room where his exhausted wife and newborn son slept. A tiny huff sounded  
from the bassinet, soon followed by a striped baby blanket which lay hanging over the edge.

He half-smiled. Okay, seemed only his wife was sleeping.

As he moved forward, a small thumping caused the blanket to shift and gradually slide to the floor.  
James caught it before it landed and peered into the bassinet. His son looked up at him with wide  
blue eyes ringed with long lashes. The baby sucked on a tiny fist as he watched his father replace  
the blanket over his body. He began kicking his legs in tandum, flinging the blanket away from him.  
Father admonished son with a look before carefully lifting the baby up and cradling him in the  
crook of his right elbow.

They left the room, and, once the door closed, had a frank discussion.

"Troy Montgomery Barnes, stop kicking off your blankets!" James told his son, gently shaking the  
boy's tiny arm.

"Schnorgk," Troy grunted and boldly grabbed one of the vibranium fingers. He looked his father  
dead in the eye as he began suckling on a metal knuckle. 

James grinned. 

Troy kicked out happily.

"Be a good boy for Mama, okay?" He swayed back and forth as he spoke. "Daddy's gotta take care of  
one thing, then it's the three of us all the way." He nuzzled the dark fuzz on Troy's scalp, inhaling  
that soft, calming scent babies have. Troy started fussing, putting different parts of James' fingers  
in his mouth then shoving them away because they didn't taste right. He went back to gumming his  
fists, which weren't right either. "Hungry, little man? All right, back to Mama then."

Returning to the room, he walked over to the bed to wake his wife. She mumbled, but accepted the   
baby and settled him against a breast. James brushed her messy hair and kissed her cheek. "I gotta  
take care of something. I'll be back in a few hours." Sleepily, she nodded.

He left the room, heading out to "borrow" an older quinjet.

He didn't expect to find it on the tarmac ready to go.

He didn't expect the hatch to be open.

He certainly didn't expect Tony Stark seated at the flight controls.

Tony called over his shoulder, "Hurry up, Terminator. The flight plan's pretty strict on this."

"I don't need your help, Stark." He strode up to Tony and manhandled the billionaire out of the  
seat.

"Oh, I get that," Tony replied. He dropped a hand on the back of the seat. "I need to get to Italy  
to pick up a tiramisu for Mrs. Terminator. Every new mom deserves a fresh dessert. Think of this as  
car pooling. Good for the environment." James snorted in disbelief. "Okay." He leaned down and  
whispered in his ear, "Ever wondered why no one asked about Cap?"

"Buckle up."

Once Tony buckled up in the co-pilot's chair, he asked, "Is there meal service on this flight?" James  
punched him in the biceps. He yelped and rubbed the bruising area. "Hitting people is setting a bad  
example for your son."

"Are you gonna yak the whole trip?" James demanded as the jet left the ground.

Tony casually swivelled the seat in half-circles out of boredom. "I thought we could ...do some  
male bonding over our mutual hatred of Steve Rogers."

"I don't hate him. He just ..."

"Fucked shit up?" Tony rolled his eyes in sympathy. "Yeah. I mean, dude was boning the niece of his  
True Love. How sick is that?" The trip to the private house was only a few minutes. James landed  
near the out building.

It was time to dispose of the monkey on his back.

When James stood to leave the plane, Tony grabbed his shoulder. "Need me to come with?" James shook  
his head. He needed to do this alone. 

Entering the building, he eyed the interior. Everything checked out on the surface, but looks   
could be deceiving. The cryo chamber still tucked in a corner and semi hidden from view. Cautiously  
he made his way over, his senses on high alert. Looking at the glass window, James found Steve still  
in pseudo sleep. From his own experience, Steve would be groggy and weak once dethawed and that  
would allow James the time to disable his friend.

James tapped the unlock code. The door slid open with a hiss, icy fog swirling along the cracked  
opening. He opened the door completely and jerked the man inside out onto the ground. Steve groaned,  
struggling to use his weakened limbs. As before, a combat knife slipped between vertebrae of his  
back and immobilized him. James took cable ties from a pocket, tying the prone man's wrists and  
ankles together. He hoisted the man up in a fireman's carry, keeping a hand near the knife in his  
neck.

Tony glanced at Steve, then James as they boarded the quinjet. The bound man was dropped onto the  
floor. "Keep an eye on Spangles. I'll fly us out." He poked Steve with a toe. "You sure he's out of  
the fight?"

"As long as the knife stays in, he's out."

"Huh." Tony got lift off and set a flight path to Sicily, Italy. "Just under three hours." He called   
over his shoulder, "Did you consider using a woodchipper or acid bath? Hell, even cremation. I mean,  
I'm up for Italy, but with Tinkerbell awake to plot and plan-"

"This will work. He's not going anywhere or getting loose."

"I'm just saying there are easier, less complicated ways to dispose of a body." Tony was quiet for  
a few moments, then began singing:

"In my time of dying  
I want nobody to mourn  
All I want for you to do  
Is take my body home"

It was going to be a long three hours.

Three Hours Later

James dragged Steve to the back hatch. He attached a safety strap to the plane, checking it with   
several sharp tugs. He sent Tony a thumbs up, widening his stance as the rear door opened. The heat  
wafting up from Mount Stromboli causing light burns to appear on any visible skin. He hoisted Steve  
to his feet. Once the hatch was fully open, he yanked the knife out, spun his former friend around  
to face him, and yelled, "End of the line, pal!" before kicking the flat of his boot against Steve's  
chest and sending him flying. James leaned out to see the body fall into the popping lava.

"Gotta move! Engine temps are deep red!" Tony screamed as he closed the hatch and guided the jet  
to a safer and cooler altitude.

James released the safety lead and hurried to the front. He sat down, double checking the instrument  
panel. The temperature gauges slowly drifted out of the red zone the further the quinjet traveled  
from the volcano. He dragged both hands through his hair. The tension he'd been gripped with for   
nearly a year finally leaving him. Holding out his left hand, he said, "Thanks, Tony. For everything."

Tony slapped his own left hand against James' in a homie handshake. "Can I give you some advice?  
Get a hair cut. And better clothes. You're a father and a husband. You can't go around looking like  
a Romanian hobo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Tony sings is In My Time of Dying by Led Zepplin. https://genius.com/Led-zeppelin-in-my-time-of-dying-lyrics
> 
> Mount Stromboli is a real volcano that has been actively erupting since 1934.
> 
> Tiramisu is an Italian dessert and is super yummy (especially when someone else makes it, lol) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiramisu


	11. Eleven: Behind The Scenes Bonus Content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking about the story & where it might have gone.

This story was supposed to be much darker and creepier. Steve reached the level of crazy I intended.  
Bucky was meant to be very controlled, a more discipline-oriented Dom. Generally, I wanted to write  
more rape/non-con, more violence, more blood shed.

The story as I intended to write is chapers 1-5. I'd call that the director's cut.

Alternative story lines:

\- Natasha is concerned about Steve being "away" for so long. She finds out and frees Steve from cryo

\- Bucky uses Steve to make the babies, then cryos him until his daddy skills are needed

\- Bucky & Steve share Reader, unconcerned with who the dad is, they just want a family

\- Power outage causes Steve to wake up and he shows up after Reader gives birth to claim "his" son

\- It Was All A Dream!

The burning question: Why didn't anyone look for Steve? Bucky's story was that Steve needed a break  
from being a hero and went off-grid. Tony's implication "Ever wonder why no one asked about Cap?"  
is no one really wanted Steve around as his craziness was leaking through his Avenger/America's   
Sweetheart persona. 

I really enjoyed writing dark Steve. I did make him much crazier than other dark Steve fics (I think).  
There may be more. I'm not sure.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/184642109@N02/49431794271/in/dateposted-public/)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into writing about Steve & Bucky kidnapping women for personal gratification (not just sexual). It will be weird. It will be bad. I will try to not be cliche.


End file.
